The Boy Inside
by dauntlessssbby
Summary: The greasy potions master is ready to put Mr. Harry Potter in his place as he arrives at Hogwarts. What Snape isn't expecting, is a childhood that looks too close to his own, and a relationship with the spawn of his most hated classmate. No slash. Snape mentors/adopts Harry.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so here it goes. Hopefully the start of something great. For the longest time I have LOVED Snape mentors Harry fanfictions, and though I took a lengthy break from writing, I continued to read fanfiction. I am so excited to be back and hopefully better than ever (with all these english classes i've been taking in school I better be or else i'm gonna fight someone). Anyway I hope all you lovely humans will enjoy this story I like to call an adventure. Please leave comments, constructive criticism or anything you want to say. I love feedback and interaction. Well let's go, we gotta get this greasy git to develop some feelings.**

 **Chapter 1: Learn His Place**

 **Severus POV:**

I sigh as I feel a headache worm its way into my brain, grasping at the corners, filling every crack and crevice with its vicious throbbing. I look down at the seemingly continuously increasing stack of third year parchments, essays measuring how much information the little brats had retained from previous years. Most of them, not surprising in the least, had somehow managed to forget every twinge of information, every parcel of instruction I had lodged into their insolent brains the past two years, and had come back to Hogwarts on the first day of classes knowing about as much as a muggle born first year.

This, however I was accustomed to. The young students here at Hogwarts seemed unable to value any information that did not relate to quidditch or muggle pop stars. It wasn't until the students aged and matured that they recognized and appreciated the art of magic. To these third years, magic was simply a wave of a wand that turned on the light or cleaned up a mess, or heaven forbid, a way to harm other students.

These thoughts ran through my head, propelling my headache.

I have half a mind to throw the wretched parchments on the floor and retire to my rooms with a dreamless sleep potion. I'm going to need all the rest I can get tomorrow as I tackle day two.

As I think of tomorrow, a second thought, in no way helping my headache, flitters across my mind.

Tomorrow is the first years first Gryffindor- Slytherin potions lesson.

I sigh once again, wondering how the lesson will play out.

Without a doubt there will be the usual bickering and snide comments, bouncing between houses, and what can you expect with a rivalry going on a thousand years. My only hope, fleeting as though it may be, is that the first years will have not yet grasped the full rivalry. They have only been here 24 hours, and perhaps they have not picked up on the house divides to the fullest extent. I haven't the time for their insolence, nor do I wish to hear their whiny voices defending or putting down a house they have been in for a day as if they were lifelong members sworn to defend it. That's not to say I dont strongly agree with house pride and loyalty, I value it above most things, however not from bratty first years who have yet to learn the name of who even founded the very house they reside in.

Even as I think this, however, I remember a few individuals who will be in that class, and none of them comfort me in the notion that tomorrow's lesson will run peacefully.

Draco Malfoy, my godson.

I care for the boy, surprisingly enough. He is perhaps the only other person in this world that receives my concern. However horrible I consider his father, I feel as there is still time to reverse Lucius' work and convince Draco to turn away from the dark side. Do not mistake my words, my godson is a brat. Completely spoiled with an air of superiority, something I hope to fix while he is one of my snakes.

I do recall there being a Weasley in the mix as well. Another good-for-nothing redhaired Gryffindor spawn running amuck. Weasley's are nothing but trouble and after teaching those wretched twins, I wish more than anything to banish every Weasley to an inescapable island.

Then of course, Harry Potter.

My blood run cold at the thought of the child soon to be in my presence. The exact replica of James. I knew this day would come eventually, that I couldn't escape the Potter's forever. Now the pampered prat is here at Hogwarts, taunting me with his very existence.

Suddenly a smirk that could rival the Dark Lord himself makes its way onto my face.

 _Let him try one thing_ , I say to myself, _any of them_ , _and there will be nothing I shall enjoy more than deducting points from each of them and awarding them uncountable detentions._

I won't let the Potter get away with his usual charades. Here is not a mega superstar, waited upon hand and foot like his family does.

I will be sure he learns his place.

 **Okay so yes it is a bit boring and slow but I had to set the scene. I'm glad to be back so R &R and I will get another chapter up ASAP. Check out my other stores as well as I will be completing them! Lots of Love.**

 **-Mack**


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry's POV:**

I try and keep my gasps inside me as I follow the mass of first years headed towards the Gryffindor common room. I can't keep my eyes in one place as they take in the inside of Hogwarts.

I make eye contact with a woman who looked to be on a farm in one of the giant painting decorating the walls, and she smiles and waves at me.

My amazement continues as we are lead, similar to a herd of cattle, to a large portrait of a woman who seems to have had too many of the pumpkin pastries I just discovered.

Our prefect says some weird word, and for an instant I am concerned that I will never be able to properly repeat it, however my concern is short lived as I enter the Gryffindor common room.

I can only imagine having a place like this to live in. There are comfy chairs and work tables, and I am actually allowed to sit here. They even told me at the feast previously that I could eat as much as I wanted. I didn't, of course. Sometimes my aunt and uncle would tell me I was allowed to eat, only to rip it away once I had gotten my hopes up.

My thoughts are disturbed by Ron, my new friend from the train who conveniently got sorted into Gryffindor as well. I am so glad to have friend, although i'm slightly scared because I don't know how to act around one. I've never had a friend before. I do know, however, that you are supposed to be kind and loyal to one, and that is what I plan on being to Ron, as well as any other person I consider to be my friend.

"C'mon mate, let's go," he starts. "Dean said he'd save two beds for us in his room. Seamus is in there as well."

With these words he grabs my arm to lead me upstairs, but his hand connects with one of my newest welts and I let out a sharp gasp and immediately pull away.

Ron's eyes widen in concern and despite the pain in my upper arm I feel a warm feeling spread throughout my chest at his seeming care.

"I'm sorry," he rushes out immediately, "what was that?"

I try and brush it off as best as I can. One of my relatives main rule is that no one can know. I can't tell anyone. I would hate to be on the end of that beating if it got to them that people knew.

"Oh, that? It's nothing. I hit it on the side of the door exiting the train tonight." I give a small chuckle. "You just slightly scared me."

Ron looks a little skeptical but a grin makes its way onto his face.

"Horrid timing. What does the bruise look like? For some reason I have always found them fascinating. Can I get a look?"

I instantly move back at that.

"Umm, no...it's nothing, really. Don't even know if there is a bruise to see actually." I force out.

Ron seems to grow even more concerned but decides to drop it. He gives me this look, however, and I know I have only escaped his questioning temporarily.

PAGE BREAK-

That night I dream.

I dream that my uncle found out that the students and teachers at Hogwarts let me sit on the soft chairs. He found out that I ate at supper. He gets really angry and resorts to his favorite punishment. The belt.

I have long learned to keep quiet in my sleep, even during nightmares. I knew the punishments that would come if I didn't.

I felt the belt repeatedly connect with my already scarred back and keep my tears at bay.

That's another rule. No crying.

I wake up, drenched in sweat. I instantly look around, making sure the other boys are asleep. They are.

I take my covers and put them over my head.

I feel all these emotions in my head, and my eyes start to well.

 _What are you doing?_ I think to myself. _You know better than to cry._

But for some reason my body disagrees with my thoughts and I begin to silently cry, tears streaming down my face.

I look, through blurry eyes at the clock beside me and realize that it is 2:30 in the morning. I never go back to sleep after these dreams, and I realize how long of a night this will be.

I look up at the ceiling and just think. I think about Hogwarts, and how different it is from my house. I think about punishments here. Do they use a belt? Do thy starve the students? All the kids tonight looked well fed and without scars, but then again, don't I?

I can only hope here is different. I understand that sort of punishment if it is actually deserved, but for fun? I don't think they would.

The clock has only moved the minute hand ten minutes when I look back and sigh deeply. I don't like nighttime. It gives me too much time to think.

 **OKAY so yeah I kinda like this chapter because you get to see inside Harry's mind. I promise they will meet next chapter so yeahh. Please please please leave me some feedback. Last chapter got no comments and I am really sad about that. I want to know people are enjoying my writing, it keeps me motivated. Anyway I updated my other story today and I am hoping to update the other one tomorrow. Check those out if you like Divergent. Love you guys! -Mack**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back people! Here is chapter three!**

Chapter 3:

Severus Pov:

I scowl to myself as I start to scrub up the disastrous after effects of a fifth year song potion gone wrong. These imbeciles don't even know the difference between parciel and cottonfog, even though I distinctly remember teaching those very ingredients to these same individuals two years ago. I shake my head at the notion that they should retain any of that.

I am just finishing throwing out the last of the broken glass, when the room begins to fill with the next class. Rubbing my temples at the spark of an impending headache, I remember the time.

Taking a deep breath, I exit the room, wanting to make a lasting impression on these children. I want them to learn, at the very beginning, that I am no one to mess with. I am not a likable person and enjoy my solitude. I do not enjoy, contrary to most professors, the company of my students. I am here for one job only: to ensure that these children get a proper education and learn a thing or two before they venture out into the real world. Nothing more, nothing less.

I wait outside for a bit until I concur that most of the students are in place. I am highly certain there will be no stragglers or absentees as it is their first day in my class.

I throw open the door to the dark, crisp dungeons, an area that has become my favorite place in the castle. It is quiet, mysterious, both a place for haunting and protection. Most everyone misses the value in it. Most everyone avoids it. They don't see the beauty in the ambiguity.

All heads snap up at my entrance, and I am joyful, an emotion not common within me, that the faces carry looks of fear and uncertainty, amid dark curiosity.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class", I snarl, as I make my way to the front of the classroom. I spin around, looking closely at the sea of faces staring back at me. Some shrouded in the darkness. I recognize a few people here and there. Draco, of course, is front and center, and wears a tiny smirk on his face. I will have to speak with him about that. I see a few other death eater children, all among the least scared looking. My eyes continue and I land upon what is undoubtedly a Weasley, looking quite petrified, no doubt having heard stories of my monstrosities from his rascal of older brothers. The curious thing, however, is his neighbor, Harry Potter.

My breath catches slightly at the sight of him. James Potter in the flesh. I suppress violent flashbacks as I take him in.

My eyes catch his, only for a second, before he hurriedly looks away, but there is no denying what I saw. Lily.

I saw something I had feared seeing my whole life. Lily. He has her eyes. Dead ringer.

 _C'mon Severus. No time to dwell on that right now. Look at him. He is James, already obnoxious and not paying attention. Focus on that._

I sneer once in his direction, wanting to get my point across, not that he would have any idea of said point.

I see him shrink a little and look confused and I congratulate myself.

I carry on with the lesson, taking points here and there, yelling a bit, and scaring the students to death. Most of them seem okay, however a little muggleborn know-it-all can't seem to be quiet. As annoying as I find her, I am slightly impressed with her knowledge and desire to learn, although I would never say it. Draco is close behind her, having grown up with me and my lessons since birth. Everyone else falls in line, about even. Then there is that Longbottom fellow. Complete disaster with no hope of ever succeeding , to put it nicely. I will be amazed if he gets through this course without setting himself or another classmate on fire.

I keep a sharp eye on Potter. Waiting, wishing for him to mess up, make a mistake that I am able to chide him, embarrass him in front of the class.

I am watching him and Weasley work from the book, and I notice Potter's face bunch up. He winces and grabs at his arm. Weasley is too engrossed in the sludge before him to notice. Potter eases up a bit, and gently lays his arm back on the table.

 _Very interesting,_ I say to myself. _How on earth has he already gotten injured on his second day at Hogwarts. No doubt got in a fight, most likely over something stupid. Ignorant boy, don't you know not everyone will bow to you here._

I feel slightly better as I continue the lesson, knowing someone has put Potter in his place.

The lesson ends without too many mistakes and I feel better already knowing I have another day before I have to see these twits again.

As the students pack up and begin to leave, I overhear a conversation.

"C'mon Harry, we've gotta go, we're gonna be late for McGonagall. Fred told me she turned him into a mouse because he was 3 minutes late to a lesson last year." The weasley boy says, looking quite petrified.

The Granger girl rolls her eyes.

"No, Ron, she can't do that. The teachers aren't allowed to use magic on students. I read about it in the handbook."

The two then begin bickering, and I am so annoyed that they are still in my presence. I am about to call them out on it, maybe throw in a detention for dawdling, when Potter catches my eye.

I look over at what on earth is taking him so long to pack up his books and I notice he seems unable to do so. I watch his pick up his potions book, and ever so slowly, move it to his bag. He is wincing the entire way. He eventually sets it in and begins to antagonizing attempt to zip his bag. He finally gives up, put his books in his other hand down and switches to zip up the bag with his right hand. He then picks his books back up and stands.

The two others were too busy arguing over whether or not McGonagall will turn them into a mouse to notice the unusual event.

"Guys, guys, I'm ready. Let's go." And with that they all turn and exit the room, unaware of the little scene I have just witnessed.

I am glad they are gone, but something pierces at my mind. Why is Potter so sore? What on earth happened to him that makes him incapable of zipping his bag? These thoughts stay with me and I am still thinking about them as I lay down at night.

 _No bother_ , I think to myself. _Without a doubt the boy and his superior attitude has gotten him into some students mess. It will work itself out._

And that is the last time I think about Potter before I succumb to sleep.

 **Hi! Here is chapter three! I have no excuses for why it took this long but here it is! I hope you like it! Snape is soooo much fun to write and I just love his ambiguous nature! Hoping to have the next chapter up soon! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review! It gives me so much motivation and makes me feel so good. Feedback, constructive criticism, anything. It all helps and makes me into a better writer. Anyway, hope you all had a wonderful christmas! I love you guys - Mack**


	4. Chapter 4

**Enjoy:)**

 **Harry POV:**

"That's impossible," Ron claims, shoveling soup in his mouth at an insane rate. "No way did Snape kill a second year."

We are sitting in the great hall, eating lunch. We are halfway through our second day, and I'm enjoying myself so much. I'm still getting used to the rules here, I am still shy about talking to people and eating as much as I would like, but my new friends Ron and Hermione have been a big help. Ron's loud and often obnoxious, but he's loyal and funny and the perfect fit for me. Hermione is the voice of reason, and makes sure we make it to class on time. We're the perfect trio.

Fred and George are sitting with us, telling us stories of all the professors and about Hogwarts years ago. I can't tell what is true and what isn't with these guys.

"Yes he did Ronnykins", Fred says with a smirk.

"Right in his classroom", George adds, looking a little too serious.

Ron looks scared, while Hermione looks annoyed.

"There's no way", she begins, "He wouldn't still be allowed to teach here. In fact, wouldn't he be in that wizard prison? I've read about it in a book I borrowed from the library."

"The library?" Ron looks bewildered. "Hermione we've been here two days."

Hermione just shakes her head. "I'm a fast reader, and besides, it was interesting."

This leads Fred and George into an exaggerated story about a place called Azkaban, claiming they've been thrown in multiple times for one thing or another. I never can tell if they're being serious.

I drown them out and start thinking about what they told us earlier. About Snape.

He acted so hostile towards me today and I have no idea why. I'm certain i've never met him before, so I can't imagine why he would dislike me already. But then I think back my years with the Dursleys. They didn't like me either. Maybe i'm just dislikable. But the other professors have been nice enough, and no one, except a lousy slytherin as seemed to hate me. I continue on with these thought until i'm pulled out of my head by Hermione.

"Come on, Harry, we've got flying next, and we mustn't be late to our first lesson."

I get up to leave with them, when Fred and George stop me.

"Harry, you have barely touched your food." George says to me, quietly enough so Ron and Hermione don't hear.

I see a touch of concern on both their faces at George's words, but shake it away.

I DID eat. In fact I ate enough to make me feel very full. Due to the lack of food at the Dursleys, my stomach has shrunk, and I only have to eat a few bites before I start to feel sick. I can't tell them this, of course.

"Oh yeah", I say offhandedly, trying to look indifferent. "I'm not very hungry right now, but I bet i''l be starving for dinner." I force out a chuckle.

The twins get this look on their face, similar to Ron's earlier, and I know I haven't fooled them.

"Okay", Fred drawls out. He and George look at each other for a minute and have a silent conversation with their eyes.

But then they seem just as jolly and happy as ever.

"Well my young children, enjoy the rest of your classes," and with that, the twins make a dramatic exit, and we hear them telling jokes and laughing all the way down the hall.

Ron just rolls his eyes. "Lunatics, those two, I'm telling you."

I feel a little unnerved at their words, but I shake it off. They don't care, they were probably just wondering why I would be ungrateful and waste all this wonderful food.

The twins are the two people I feel most comfortable with, aside from Ron and Hermione, and it's only my second day. They always joke and make fun of Ron, but I can tell they care about him. Ron just seems constantly annoyed by them, and for some reason it makes me upset. What I would give to have two people who care about me. Two brothers who would help me and joke with me.

I shake it off and join Ron and Hermione as we make our way outside for flying.

PAGE BREAK

I'm currently standing outside Professor Quirrell's room with Professor McGonagall. She is asking for a student named Woods to come outside.

I don't know who Woods is, but I know i'm in a lot of trouble.

I just couldn't help it. That Malfoy boy is so mean, and I couldn't let him get away with stealing Neville's remembrall. He thinks that just because he rich and has wizard parents that he can do whatever he wants. I hate people like him, they remind me of Dudley.

Anyway I just wanted the remembrall back, and being on the broom felt so natural, like second nature. I didn't think twice about going after it.

On one side, I wish I had listened to Hermione. I can't be expelled. I've been here two days and feel more at home than I ever did with the Dursleys. If they send me back i'll run away.

But on the other hand, it felt good to stick up to Malfoy. The surprised look on his face almost made up for the trouble i'm about to get in. Almost.

I wonder if Woods is like a code name for a stick or something. I know I deserve some sort of beating, but I had a fleeting thought that Hogwarts didn't do that. But, I know I must accept responsibilities for my actions. If there was one thing I learned from the Dursleys, its to take my punishment silently and without tears.

I am prepared to do the same with whatever "Woods" is, but I am very surprised to see a young man come out at McGonagall's request. He looks to be a bit older than me, but can't be more than 16 years old.

"Professor", he nods in greeting at Professor McGonagall, and then turns to me with an inquiring look on his face.

"Woods," McGonagall begins, she looks very excited for some reason, "I have found you a seeker."

Wood's eyebrows shoot up and I am more confused than ever.

PAGE BREAK

That night I am the only one awake in my room. I can't help but go over everything that happened today. My body aches from old bruises and being on the broom today and engaging in that much physical activity has tired me out. I open the bandage I have so expertly put over the worst cut on my stomach and find it to be infected. I don't know what to do. I don't have any supplies here, and am almost running out of bandages. I can't tell anyone because then they'll ask how it happened, and that's something i'm not ready to tell people. I can't tell people. It was the Dursley's first rule, and I can't imagine what they would do if they found out. I decide to try and find some old paper or cloth that I can use to rewrap the cut until I can figure out what to do with it.

I quietly make my way out of my room and down the stairs to the common room. It is late, so no one is up.

I look around for awhile, but find nothing. My stomach is really hurting and i'm exhausted, but I know I can't go to bed with this open, festering wound, because it would get all over my bed sheets and I would probably get in more trouble.

I quietly open the door to the hallway, and shut it slowly.

Maybe, I think, I will just try and find something in a classroom, or perhaps the library. There has to be something I can use.

"Where are you going, mister," The fat lady says as I shut the door.

She takes one look at me holding my side and a frown forms on her face.

"You should probably get that looked at," she starts, "It doesn't look good."

"Thanks," I mumble, "I didn't notice."

She just looks at me with sad eyes before drifting back to sleep.

Blood and pus are slowly making their way out of the cut on my side and I wander through the hallways, in search of something I can use. I tried toilet paper, but it was no good.

Finally, I am about to give up and spend another sleepless night trying to clean it up with my old shirts, but movement catches my eye.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter," I hear, and turn around slowly.

Professor Snape stands there, wand giving off a source of light. He has a glint in his eye, as if he was waiting for something like this to happen.

He smirks, "What do you think you are doing?"

 **OKAYYYY so yeah. There is this. Anyway some action is coming up but be prepared for greasy git snape because he can't be all caring or loving or yada yada right off the bacK. But for real I love Fred and George so get ready for a lot of them because they rock amirite. Please leave me some comments on ideas or other things you want to see in the story, or just tell me what you like or didn't. Anyway I'll get the next chapter up soonish. ILYALL - mack**


	5. Chapter 5

**Check the bottom for an author's note:) Happy reading!**

 **Severus POV:**

My head burns with an intense discomfort that forces my eyes open. I am disoriented for a second, before the extreme pain brings me back to my senses.

There is darkness surrounding me, telling me it is late, possibly even early morning. This thought makes me groan as I think of the long day of classes I have ahead of me, which will no doubt be made worse with fatigue due to lack of sleep.

I futilely try and close my eyes, hoping to drift back to sleep, but the pounding in my head refuses to subside.

With a sigh I sit up and check the time, noting it is near two in the morning.

I grumble weakly to myself as I pull myself out of bed, thinking about weak sleeping potions and Dumbledore's request that I not use anything stronger in case of an emergency.

I make my way to my potions cabinet over in the corner of my sitting room that contains my personal remedies, and, of course, I am all out of pain relieving potions. I curse myself as I remember noticing this this a few days before, but ensuring myself I would replenish soon enough. My only other option is one of those blasted sleeping potions that doesn't even remotely help me anymore.

I rub my hands over my face as I consider my options.

I could go down to my personal lab and brew up a simple pain reliever. It wouldn't take too long but the thought of standing up for that amount of time while handling semi-dangerous ingredients in this state turns me off the idea pretty quickly. I am doubtful I could successfully brew anything with my head pounding like this.

I could always go to the clinic and retrieve one of Poppy's potions. This would be the most time efficient and her stuff is always a little bit stronger than everyday pain relief potions.

I quickly put on my robe, even though I don't expect to encounter anyone on this late night excursion, I am always careful. I can't imagine the damage to my reputation if someone saw me prancing in the corridors at night, sporting only my sleeping clothes I shudder at the thought.

I open the door to my personal quarters and quickly make my way through the dungeons and up to Poppy's office. I use the key she gave me open her personal store, before selecting an adequate headache relieving potion and downing it quickly.

The effect is almost instant and I feel the pressure decrease behind my eyes as the potion works its way through my system. I stand there for a minute, relieving the sensation before closing and locking the cabinet behind me.

I exit her office feeling tremendously better than before.

PAGE BREAK-

Using my wand to provide some sort of light, I make my ways back through the halls of Hogwarts, muttering replies at the paintings who curse at me for disrupting their sleep.

Just as I turn the last corner to make my way back to the dungeons, I hear a faint noise from somewhere further down the hallway. I am immediately suspicious, as a professor would have enough sense to use a bloody light and anyone else has absolutely no business being out at this late hour.

As silently as I can, I make my way further down the hallway, following the noise that has transformed into light footsteps.

 _Blasted students_ , I think to myself, _why can't any of them follow the rules?_

When I get close enough to the culprit, I can see the outline of their backside. The first thing that catches my attention is the mop of dark disheveled hair, and the pajama bottoms that are so torn and tattered they might be better not being worn at all.

I recognize however, the shape, and my mood brightens considerably.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter" I say out loud, visibly startling the wandering student.

He slowly turns around, a terrified look in his eye and I couldn't picture a more enjoyable sight. There is no escaping this. Just imaging the detentions and the point deductions that can come as a result of this moment makes waking up with a splitting headache almost worth it.

"What do you think you are doing?" I ask him, smirking, waiting for an answer I know won't make a difference. He has no excuse for this misbehavior.

His eyes widen and he starts stuttering.

"Uhh.. Uh.. I.. um.. "

"Uhh...umm..um" I mock him, enjoying this too much. "There is no excuse for you to be out this late, so could you please explain to me why you feel yourself above the rules?"

I tear my eyes away from his face and notice a hand clutched at his side, as if cradling part of his stomach.

But that's not it.

My blood runs cold and I freeze as I take in the state of his side. There is a long cut that runs from his lower back to the area right under his chest. It dark red, obviously inflamed and infected. The old shirt he is wearing is doing next to nothing to cover the boy and his shaking is visible.

For a moment I stop, remembering a time in my life where I sported injuries, all alone, wandering through the night, trying to find anything to relieve what I was going through.

I am jerked back into the present by Potter's increasingly persistent stuttering and pleas. He has purposefully turned to his good side, as if protecting the wound from my eyes.

"I ju..just needed the loo...I wasn't sure where to g..g..go."

I can tell he is lying instantly. Every dorm room has bathrooms, and there is no other need to be out wandering this late.

"Potter," I say sternly, trying for both our sakes to take some venom out of my voice. "What happened to your side?"

For some reason Potter is reminding me of myself as a kid, young, scrawny, injured, but the image messes with me so much that I push the thought out of my head.

He whitens instantly.

"Th..this?" he asks, trying to seem unconcerned, a tactic I know all too familiarly and can see right through, "This is nothing, a li..little injury from my f..first flying lesson today."

My body reacts before my mind does and I walk up to the boy. He shies away from me at first and flinches, as if I would hit him. My heart breaks a little at that, and I try and move slower.

"Potter," I say, my voice oddly soft. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to see it."

I carefully move his arm away from his side and hold the ripped shirt aside as I take in the injury.

The first thing I notice is how hot his skin is. Its bad. He needs immediate attention. The second thing that come to mind is that this was not magically inflicted. This was done by a muggle device, and by someone other than Potter as the angle and depth makes it impossible to be self-inflicted.

As I carefully examine the cut, my mind wanders to how Potter could have received these wounds. This is only Potter's second day at Hogwarts, a school which doesn't have muggle weapons and most definitely not what appears to be a sizable blade that would do so much damage. It has to have occurred prior to his arrival here.

I take a deep breath before looking at Potter.

He has gone silent, and I see him holding tears at bay, stopping them from cascading down his face. I think quickly about where I should take him. Poppy's office is bound to have the supplies needed to heal him up, but for some reason the thought of bringing him to a medical room tells me it might frighten him further. I make a split decision.

"Follow me, Potter, I'm going to take you my rooms and we can work on getting that cut of yours fixed up."

I start walking towards my personal room, making sure the boy is following me.

I see him look conflicted for a second, before giving in and walking slightly behind me. I notice his breath getting heavier and he looks more unstable on his feet.

I know what this is. I know the signs. As head of Slytherin house, I have to deal with this every year. Kids from this house are abused more than the others, and I have long since got accustomed to reading the signs. The rest of the faculty don't seem to understand what my snakes go through.

Looking back on my limited time in Potter's presence, I can't believe I missed the signs. I noticed him during class. I saw how he flinched and acted as if he were in pain. I should have stopped him right then and demanded to know what was wrong. It is my duty as a Hogwarts Professor to do so no matter who the student is.

After what feels like an eternity, we make our way to my door. I whisper the password and the door swings open, revealing the inside of my personal quarters.

I quickly turn on the lights and lead Potter to sit on my couch.

"Stay here," I murmur to him, and rush off the find the needed supplies.

I return minutes later, and even in my short absence, Potter looks worse.

He complexion is paler, and his breathing is more shallow. He is just about closing his eyes when I shake him awake.

His eyes fly open with a start, and he immediately shies away from me.

 **Heyo! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Just a heads up that this is my own, original story, so I have things a little differently than in the book. I'm just sorta doing my own thing so don't worry if thing are little wrong or not like the books! Anyway let me know what you guys think! I hope to maybe have the next chapter up soon! I appreciate you guys always! - Mack**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm back! This isn't beta-read so please ignore any errors! Enjoy!**

 **Severus Pov:**

"Harry….. Harry!" I shout at him, trying to calm him down and trying not to think of when I ceased calling him Potter and went straight to Harry.

I catch both of his arms in my hands and pin them down on his chest, cautious of his gaping wound. For a few moments he sits there, breathing heavily, a stormy look in his eye, as if he is trying to right himself.

He blinks suddenly, owlish in his movements.

"Prof..professor?" he questions lightly, blinking rapidly as if to get rid of the pain that comes with the sudden emittance of a bright light.

"Yes, Harry," I murmur softly, my hands instinctively finding their place in his hair, running through it softly, calmly.

I quickly catch myself and remove my hands, placing them stiffly at my side, hoping the boy didn't catch my change in nature.

"What happened" he asks softly, and my heart breaks at the way he drops his head, as if waiting for a beating. It's an action I know all too well.

"You were in the hallway," I tell him, "you're injured, I just want to help you. I can give you some potions, we can.."

"Wait," he bursts out, "Please, i'll do anything. You can't tell anyone, I promise it won't affect my schoolwork or anything." He grabs onto my arm as he continues rambling.

"Harry, Harry," I interrupt him, trying once again to calm the child. "I'm not going to tell anyone as long as you don't want me too. Although I do believe it would be best to tell your head of house and Professor Dumbledore, I will not do so against your will." My hand rests on his shoulder, and this time I don't pull away.

"I promise, I will never do anything to hurt you."

To myself I wonder who I am not supposed to tell and why. I know when I was younger, my father had that rule. If I were to tell anyone the beatings would be ten times worse. I hope that isn't the case with Harry. Guardians like that are brutal, I cannot imagine the things they have done to him.

I know I need to have this conversation with him eventually. He must confide in someone about what has happened, but at the moment, I am more focused on getting him calm and healing his wounds before they get worse.

Once again I take his hands in mine and lay them against the couch. I don't want to him to feel bound or trapped, but I don't him flailing and injuring himself further.

"Harry," I say softly, "will you please let me clean your wound?"

He sniffles softly and something inside me breaks, but I ignore it.

"Will it hurt?" He asks.

"I can give you a potion that will help with the pain, but anything stronger might be too dangerous."

One look at his body and I can tell he hasn't been eating properly. It looks like he's never had a full meal in his entire life. He's thin. Too thin. If I give him anything more than a simple pain potion his body won't be able to handle it. I add that to the list of things to talk to him about, and think of ways I can slip nutrients potions into his food.

"Okay," he says softly, and I let go of his hands slowly.

I hold out the pain potion and he reaches for it with shaking hands.

"Drink it slowly," I instruct him, "It might make you feel a little drowsy, but trust me, it'll help."

He shakily tips it back and I see him shutter as the vile liquid makes its way down his throat. I don't blame him. I grew up in the wizarding world and I'm still not used to it.

After he hands me back the glass, I set it aside me and get to work on his side.

It's infected. Very infected. The skin is torn at such an angle that it is hard to magically re-connect the skin, and even then, I need to make sure there is no internal damage before I close the wound.

It is a long process, and the boy seems to almost fall asleep before I put the last of his skin together. There is a faint pink line where the wound used to be, and I know it will serve as a reminder for the rest of his life of the mistreatment he has endured.

I softly lay him back down on the couch, careful not to tug at the newly connected skin, and cover him with two blankets.

Sighing softly, I run my fingers through his hair once more, before I turn off the lights and retire to my bed chambers, my thoughts racing a mile a minute.

-PAGE BREAK-

I wake up the next morning, more groggy and grumpy than normal. My head aches my eyes burn. I don't remember why, until I walk into the sitting room and catch Harry Potter sleeping soundly on my couch.

It is then that the events of last night catch up to me.

The hallway. Harry. His wounds.

I stumble for a bit as I remember the way my heart clenched when I looked at him, and my hands in his hair, my desire to soothe him, to protect him.

I'm actually scared as all those feelings make their way back to me, and instead of being repulsed, they stay and make their home in my heart.

Sighing quietly, I lift up the blankets and check Harry's wounds. The pink line, as expected as faded into a white scar, dominant on his pale skin.

Not wanting to wake him quite yet, but also conscious of the time, I call for a house elf to bring up breakfast, not thinking that Harry was quite ready to face the rest of Hogwarts.

I make sure to order oatmeal and fruit for the boy, not wanting to overwhelm him with heavy foods when it is obvious he has not been eating properly for some time.

I revel in having a few minutes for myself, where I can think about all that has happened.

The boy has been abused, that much is obvious. I don't know by who although I have a good idea. I very well cannot abandon him. Not now. Not after I know what he has gone through. If I had had anyone when I was that age, even my dispicable potions professor, I would have ended up loads better. He needs someone, and, seeing as how no one else knows but me, I will have to fill that role.

Somewhere deep inside me warms up at the thought. I have a purpose. I am needed. I will be here for this child, no matter what obstacles come his way, and knowing what I know about this boy and his enemy, there will be many.

My thoughts are interrupted by the pop, signalling the house elf has arrived with our breakfast.

I make my way into the sitting room, and take in the sight of my most hated enemies son, sleeping soundly on my bed. James must be rolling in the grave.

My mood brightens a little at the thought.

Softly, I shake Harry's shoulder, wanting to gently wake him up, being careful not to startle him anymore than he will already be at waking up in a foreign place.

His eyes flutter a few times, before blinking, taking in his surroundings.

Slowly, he sits up. Once his eyes fall on me, he flinches away.

"Hey, hey," I soothe him, "relax". At my words and my light touch, the tensions pulls from his frame and he relaxes into my touch.

"There," I tell him, content at his reaction, "now come, lets get some breakfast and we can talk about last night."

He follows me with his head down, shuffling his feet.

At the table, he takes the seat next to me, still quiet. He looks at his food and then back at me with a credulous eye.

"Its okay," I tell him gently, "you can eat."

"Why are we eating in here, sir? Why aren't we eating with the others in the Great Hall?"

"Because, I thought you'd be more comfortable here, and it gives us time to talk a little."

At that his whole frame shifts and he tenses up. He quickly looks down and plays with his oatmeal.

"Harry," I begin, "Who did this to you," I say, motioned to the cut on his side.

"Uhh… no one… please sir…" He stutters, shaking his head.

"No," I stop him gently. "Tell me, I promise you are safe, no matter who it was, you have my word that I won't tell a soul without your explicit permission. I need to know." I pause, "please", the word burning my tongue, It has been a while since that word came out.

"Promise?" He asks me softly, catching my eye.

"I promise", I reassure him.

"It was…. It was my uncle mostly, sometimes my aunt. I guess Dudley helped a little."

My heart breaks when I hear this, my fears confirmed. To have the people who are supposed to love and care for you treat you that way, breaks a person more than anything else. A family is supposed to, above all, support and take care you. My breaks my heart that revelation and I make a pact, right here, to be that for this boy. Be his family.

 **Hey guys! I'm back! Hope you guys like this chapter (it's v long:) ) Anyway we might not have school tomorrow because of snow, so I might work on another chapter! Let me know what you guys think! Love ya'll - Mack**


	7. Chapter 7

**Harry POV:**

I sigh as I make my way toward my first class of the day, transfigurations with McGonagall. I had the oddest night, and my head is still trying to wrap around everything that has happened. One thing I know for sure is that Snape was… he was nice. He seemed generally concerned about what I had told him.

After he ordered up breakfast, we talked for a while about my relatives. I was still pretty nervous to talk about them, but he wouldn't let me sit idle. I don't understand why I felt comfortable talking to him, especially after everything I have heard about him, and even experienced in his first class.

The more I think about it, the more anxious I get. The Dursley's warning swarm my head. I shouldn't have said anything, no matter how comfortable I felt. They are gonna kill me.

Suddenly my breathing gets heavy and I start to panic.

Not here, please, I beg.

Panic attacks are all too common with me. I had my first one when I was seven years old. I had no idea what was happening to me, all I knew was that I couldn't breathe. My uncle found me passed out in the backyard. That was the worst beating I had had yet. Yet another thing I've learned to hide.

Just as my vision starts to fade, I feel a hand catching my elbow, leading me down the hallway to a more secluded area down near the underside of the staircase.

I close my eyes, and try to catch my breath before I face my quiet savior. I hear the students rushing past, talking animatedly. I try and zone in on one voice to clear my head.

After a few moments, my breathing returns to normal, and I notice the pressure is still present on my elbow.

I look up quickly, and see Fred, standing beside me, silently offering me support.

He catches my eyes and smiles slightly, but his eyebrows knit together in concern.

"All right there, Harry" he asks me quietly.

I nod slowly, "Sorry about that, it just happens sometimes."

"Hey no need to be sorry, I'm just glad I caught you when I did."

I look down dejectedly. I have always been embarrassed that this happens to me. Why can't I be normal like everyone else.

As if he can read my thoughts, he starts leans down and cups his mouth, as if to tell me a great secret.

"Between you and me," he whispers, "Ron used to get them all the time. He used to wake up from nightmares screaming about bloody spiders. It used to take mum hours to calm him down."

I laugh, feeling better at Fred's words. Perhaps I'm not so alone.

He looks at me one last time.

"You sure you're good to go to class?" he asks me quietly.

I nod.

"Yeah, I feel good. Thanks for that."

I'm not just thanking him for helping me, but doing it quietly, not drawing attention. I don't need anymore people thinking i'm a freak. I don't tell him this, but for some reason I don't think it matters. He understands.

He nods at me and gives a tight one armed hug.

"Alright mate, I'll see you in a bit. Come see me if you need anything. Me and George are heading to Trawlany's. Absolute rubbish if you ask me, but oh well."

"I will, thanks Fred," I say smiling slightly.

With that he gives me one last squeeze and takes off down the now almost- empty hallway.

I take a few moments to further collect myself before I take off toward McGonagall.

Before I make my way down the hallway, I catch sight of a person standing off to the side, hidden by the shadows.

It's Snape, and he eyeing me concerned.

When he catches my gaze, he raises his eyebrow pointedly.

I give him a small smile and a shake of my head, a silent reassurance that everything is okay.

He gives me a sharp nod in return and turns briskly and begins walking back toward the dungeon.

I can't help but wonder how much he saw.

I make it McGonigal's class without a moment to spare, and get the stern eye from a familiar cat as I make my way to my seat beside Ron. Hermione sits on the opposite side of the isle, and I can see her staring at me.

"Bloody hell, Harry, where have you been?" Ron starts as soon as I sit. "We 'bout sent out a search party when we couldn't find you this morning."

I freeze for a moment. What do I tell him? I cannot possible say I spent the morning dining with Snape.

"I..uh… to the infirmary." I start.

His eyes grow wide and he face morphs into one of concern.

"Why? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He asks me rapid fire. A feeling of warmth spreads through my entire body at his questioning. No one has ever cared so much about me in my entire life, and I met him three days ago. Ron and his brothers have shown me more care in the last few days than the Duresley's showed me in 11 years of living with them. My eyes start to mist over at the thought, and I will the tears to go away.

"It was nothing" I tell Ron, hoping he doesn't mistake my sentimental tears for something else. "I woke up and didn't feel well. Madame Pomfrey gave me a potion to help settle my stomach."

He doesn't seem to buy it, but thankfully McGonagall had shifted back and promptly began the lesson, cutting off any opportunity for Ron to question my lies.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, and I find myself back in the great hall at dinnertime, surrounded by what I am assuming will be my usual company. Fred, George, and three of their friends sit on the opposite side of me, Ron and Hermione.

Everyone is currently talking about the upcoming Quidditch match, something I can't say I am looking forward too. Although I can't wait to be back on a broom, the feeling of flying and being free still so fresh in my mind, I'm so nervous about the match. What if I can't catch the snitch? I don't want to disappoint anyone.

The twins keep giving me nervous glances as I pick at my food.

"How are ya, Harry?" George asks, keeping his tone cheerful, although I catch the underlying concern.

"I'm good," I tell him, with a genuine smile. Despite everything that has happened, I feel good at Hogwarts. I feel welcomed and accepted for the most part.

They give me a smile, and turn back to talking with their friends about the latest pranks they have been creating.

Ron is chatting away about this and that, and I can't seem to focus on his words, but he doesn't mind, just chats away.

I look around and catch Snape's eye, he is gazing at me from his place at the professor's table. He makes a distinct eating motion with a fork, and obvious order to begin eating my food. I give him a small nod, and pick up my fork.

It is only a few bites later that I put my fork back down, stuffed.

I look back at him, and gives sighs before giving me a stiff nod. He obviously is unhappy, but accepts it nonetheless.

After dinner, Ron, Hermione and I begin to make our way back to the Gryffindor common room.

As we are on one of the staircases, it begins to move.

Hermione shrieks, as we all grab onto the railings.

When it finally moves to a stop, we all look at each other.

"Let's go this way," Hermione says, already leading the way, "I bet it will loop around and we can find our way back."

Ron and I agree and we make our way up the staircase.

We find ourselves in a poorly lit corridor, with statues lining the sides.

"I don't think we are supposed to be here," Ron starts, slowing backing up.

"We're not," Hermione confirms. "This is the third floor, it's forbidden."

"Let's go," I say quickly, not waiting for a consensus.

We turn to leave but are met with Filch's cat. We go to make our way around her when we hear footsteps approaching.

"Is anyone there, Mrs. Norris?" we hear a raspy voice call out.

We quickly make eye contact with each other and begin to run the opposite way.

We run straight into a locked door. Ron jiggles to handlebar repeatedly.

"Now what?!" he cries, "We're done for!"

"Oh move over," Hermione says, pushing him to the side as she steps up to the door.

She points her wand at the door. "Alohomora."

The door swings open.

We rush inside and slam the door, as we all lean against it breathing heavily.

"What was that?" Ron asks exasperated.

"Standard book of spells, chapter 11, it's an unlocking spell," Hermione says, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Good job, Hermione," I praise, closing my eyes and breathing heavily.

All the sudden we feel a giant gust of air, as if a wind were blowing right in our faces.

"What was that," Ron asks, voice cracking a bit.

I open my eyes and see a giant shape moving in the dark.

Suddenly a three-heading dog comes steps into the light, and begins viciously growling at us, bearing horrible teeth and coming closer with every step.

"AHHH!" we all scream as we hurriedly exit the room, all thoughts of Filch or his cat gone, as we try and get away from the beast.

We don't stop running until we have made our way to the common room, and we collapse in a heap.

 **Hi guys so I'm so sorry this has taken so long, but I'm not really in a great place right now, just climbing one of those tough mountains. I'm going to try to keep up with this though so leave me some positive feedback, just anything that might motivate me or help me with my slump:( Anyway I hope you guys liked this. Love you. -Mack**


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